Submissions by Everavalon
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
The serpents tongue is liquid and claims to be wise
Between the husk and the knoll
What is it about me that makes you glimmer?
My essence; my grace?
I confess, I am numb to you
I simmer in your sparkles as if your endeavour were a prism of mindless refraction
Your colours merely smothering my shade
I cannot love you as you want to be loved
I cannot spare any envy to accommodate you
Your outspoken inundation chokes my pen
Strangles my zen
You want my hand— take it
and I will lead you to the meadow
and let you wither between the husk and the knoll
I cannot love you as you want to be loved
I cannot...
My essence; my grace?
I confess, I am numb to you
I simmer in your sparkles as if your endeavour were a prism of mindless refraction
Your colours merely smothering my shade
I cannot love you as you want to be loved
I cannot spare any envy to accommodate you
Your outspoken inundation chokes my pen
Strangles my zen
You want my hand— take it
and I will lead you to the meadow
and let you wither between the husk and the knoll
I cannot love you as you want to be loved
I cannot...
#SelfReflection
34 reads
2 Comments
Vintage jewels
I perplex over your wit
Fingering your words with discretion
Peeling back the layers
To unveil their meaning
Wisdom is borne of experience
The nectar of the nucleus
Spilling its liquid to cocoon your essence
It’s shimmer is raw and viscous
Your words urge me to ponder deeply
Each metaphor splayed in cloth for dissection
I feel your words in my chest
as they stumble through my spirit
Collecting meaning along the way
My ears twinge as the inner voice is echoing
Throwing noise to your walls ...
Fingering your words with discretion
Peeling back the layers
To unveil their meaning
Wisdom is borne of experience
The nectar of the nucleus
Spilling its liquid to cocoon your essence
It’s shimmer is raw and viscous
Your words urge me to ponder deeply
Each metaphor splayed in cloth for dissection
I feel your words in my chest
as they stumble through my spirit
Collecting meaning along the way
My ears twinge as the inner voice is echoing
Throwing noise to your walls ...
#SelfReflection
47 reads
2 Comments
Idling my time
Knowing you’re unwanted is a prickly sensation.
There lay thorns at every corner; blades dig at every turn. My path, riddled with holes.
The world my mother molded for me left an odorous hue. Dense, all encompassing. The murk often blinded my eyes from finding an escape through her fissures— lined of loneliness and retraction, where her glimmer was intermittent at best.
The voice my mother left for me narrates her vibe as detached and selfish. Her crooked lips, up slightly to one side, painted her mouth in a perpetual smirk. Her grimace hid the baggage of her own...
There lay thorns at every corner; blades dig at every turn. My path, riddled with holes.
The world my mother molded for me left an odorous hue. Dense, all encompassing. The murk often blinded my eyes from finding an escape through her fissures— lined of loneliness and retraction, where her glimmer was intermittent at best.
The voice my mother left for me narrates her vibe as detached and selfish. Her crooked lips, up slightly to one side, painted her mouth in a perpetual smirk. Her grimace hid the baggage of her own...
#dark
51 reads
7 Comments
Spoken
The authenticity of the truth spoken
depends on the accuracy
of the words
defined
depends on the accuracy
of the words
defined
#SelfReflection
42 reads
3 Comments
Pry the light
Where morose fingers pry the light from my soul
Collecting the husks of glimmer
Meddling in the shimmer of locution
that recoils my words from their wisdom
Where sable embosses the eye
And moistens my breath
Where the bleakest desires pale circumstance
and the singlet of sorrow is crafted
When it seeps into your core
to paint you a portrait
Collecting the husks of glimmer
Meddling in the shimmer of locution
that recoils my words from their wisdom
Where sable embosses the eye
And moistens my breath
Where the bleakest desires pale circumstance
and the singlet of sorrow is crafted
When it seeps into your core
to paint you a portrait
#dark
39 reads
0 Comments
Seeds
Empty lines narrate this script
Shading my parchment with noise
Cumbersome lines aired unevenly
Upending the art of its poise
Muster a breath of depravity
Curtail the flesh of the moon
Stand beneath the lonesome heat
To evade the assembly in bloom
Wingless Angel flush of sable
Empty eyes deceive
Mince the words spoke not of one
To rank in death’s reprieve
Wistful bells sound for me
I am the courier of needs
I haven’t any wisdom left
I simply carry its seeds
Shading my parchment with noise
Cumbersome lines aired unevenly
Upending the art of its poise
Muster a breath of depravity
Curtail the flesh of the moon
Stand beneath the lonesome heat
To evade the assembly in bloom
Wingless Angel flush of sable
Empty eyes deceive
Mince the words spoke not of one
To rank in death’s reprieve
Wistful bells sound for me
I am the courier of needs
I haven’t any wisdom left
I simply carry its seeds
#SelfReflection
45 reads
2 Comments
The jester
The harp and the jester
His music will fester
Within the variance of scold
Beguiled by his dance
He prevails at a glance
Across the tenor of bold
To sway is to spoil
In the crown wearers toil
To evade the drum of the lame
To guard in the gloaming
Whilst heckles are roaming
Eclipsing the art of his game
His music will fester
Within the variance of scold
Beguiled by his dance
He prevails at a glance
Across the tenor of bold
To sway is to spoil
In the crown wearers toil
To evade the drum of the lame
To guard in the gloaming
Whilst heckles are roaming
Eclipsing the art of his game
#deception
46 reads
2 Comments
Artful drone
The knife that has cut me
recollects pain
My blood, the wine of sorrow
spills for each rank thought
and one sip lost to the seller of morrow
The rope I twine into a noose
complicates me
Seven coils to rid the toils of woe
Delve into the spaces between the fibres
And scribe your thoughts on each strand
Lest the words be forgotten
This pistol has planted a seed
A revolving simmer
The ground swells under its conclusion
Bloom for me
Swoon for me
Blossom in this shallow dusk
Climax at...
recollects pain
My blood, the wine of sorrow
spills for each rank thought
and one sip lost to the seller of morrow
The rope I twine into a noose
complicates me
Seven coils to rid the toils of woe
Delve into the spaces between the fibres
And scribe your thoughts on each strand
Lest the words be forgotten
This pistol has planted a seed
A revolving simmer
The ground swells under its conclusion
Bloom for me
Swoon for me
Blossom in this shallow dusk
Climax at...
#dark
#death
#SelfReflection
49 reads
2 Comments
The musk of a petal
The meddle of the moon over yonder
The peddle of the swoon when it’s squandered
The eyes in the blinding of hours
The surmise of the winding of dour
Dust spurned the musk of a petal
Lust turns to crust as we settle
Cages amidst pages of riddance
Gauges our stages in pittance
The peddle of the swoon when it’s squandered
The eyes in the blinding of hours
The surmise of the winding of dour
Dust spurned the musk of a petal
Lust turns to crust as we settle
Cages amidst pages of riddance
Gauges our stages in pittance
#SelfReflection
62 reads
1 Comment
Autumn’s garden — with Adagio
Memories of the way you kissed
beneath haunting falling leaves
with whimsied Autumn breeze
as shadows fell from the moon
like fragments of seasons
silently curtsying, whispering...
encore
Memories of the way you spoke
between the scar and the spine
The way you carried yourself
through the absent sunshine
The way you scold the earth of its bloom
The way you hold your mirth to the moon
Where silence lain, is silence honed
where no voiceless objection shall ponder
the fragments fallen unto autumn’s garden
beneath haunting falling leaves
with whimsied Autumn breeze
as shadows fell from the moon
like fragments of seasons
silently curtsying, whispering...
encore
Memories of the way you spoke
between the scar and the spine
The way you carried yourself
through the absent sunshine
The way you scold the earth of its bloom
The way you hold your mirth to the moon
Where silence lain, is silence honed
where no voiceless objection shall ponder
the fragments fallen unto autumn’s garden
#SelfDiscovery
51 reads
2 Comments
Starvation of static
Clarity is measuring divine through a window
The pleasure of the chimes as the wind blows
The ledger of the sage, comprehended
The weather of the page, undefended
Clarity is the starvation of static
Ten steps with the insightful nomadic
The sustenance in the dynamic
The opalescence of the emphatic
Clarity is the pith of our essence
The stalling of an abrupt evanescence
The transparency of wit in our presence
The adherence of grit in our tenets
Clarity is in the bones of a song
Clarity...
The pleasure of the chimes as the wind blows
The ledger of the sage, comprehended
The weather of the page, undefended
Clarity is the starvation of static
Ten steps with the insightful nomadic
The sustenance in the dynamic
The opalescence of the emphatic
Clarity is the pith of our essence
The stalling of an abrupt evanescence
The transparency of wit in our presence
The adherence of grit in our tenets
Clarity is in the bones of a song
Clarity...
#SelfReflection
57 reads
2 Comments
Shooting star
As if you wept without a sound
like the grazing of a star
across the nirvana
unchained from the black that swallows
And in the cleft behind awareness,
the moon lit the pother of the star
as a gesture of its presence;
a tribute to the dust that dallies
like the grazing of a star
across the nirvana
unchained from the black that swallows
And in the cleft behind awareness,
the moon lit the pother of the star
as a gesture of its presence;
a tribute to the dust that dallies
#SelfReflection
49 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Everavalon